Third Chances
by K0Y4NG33
Summary: For a man that came back once already, what's the big deal of coming back a second time? (Mshenko, the angst, the fluff, the smut, and the overall feels. Warnings: spoilers/fanon/happy endings)


Hello, I'm rather new to the Mass Effect fandom. Two weeks in with nonstop gameplay, until now since I've beaten it. Cried a bit,  
shed some manly tears. Mshenko is a glorious ship and damn if that ending didn't kill me. Way to go Bioware, not only am I hooked  
to Dragon Age but now Mass Effect has hold of my heart too.

Fair warning: this story will contain some spoilers if you haven't finished the games. It also may not be as accurate as you may like  
but I'm gonna try my hardest to do everyone as much justice as possible. My Shepard is not John by the way, but a middle eastern  
Daniel Shepard, paragon infiltrator. Just so yknow. :3 Please enjoy and review.

* * *

Honestly, it wasn't very surprising. The way things played out. The way things were ending. He had hoped that it would have been different, that somehow he would make it back and into Kaidan's arms. But, no matter how much he had clung onto that little bit of hope, he still knew that that wasn't very likely. Now it was even more apparent than before. Now he was facing three different paths that he could take.

The Catalyst had told him to take his time. It _was_ a hard decision. The whole of the galaxy was resting on his weary shoulders, more than they had been before. It was an almost overwhelming thought. And as much as he wanted to take five to think on it, he couldn't. Not with so many lives perishing with every second he stood there.

But he was only one man.

A worn down human of some thirty years. He began a slow, pained limp down the long walkway. Thirty long years of life. It was a great life, he mused, even after all of the shit that inevitably hit the fan. A full life, he supposed. Even as he tried to reassure himself, he didn't want it to be over. It was selfish; he knew that. When so many people relied on him right now, the last thing he needed to do was feel pity for himself.

He took a visual sweep of the three choices that lay before him. One was completely off the table: controlling the Reapers. He wouldn't let himself fall to the Illusive Man's level. The second was the death of all synthetic life. It would end the Reapers. But it would also end the Geth, the machines that daily life relied on, and even Edi. He wanted to kill the Reapers. He wanted them to burn for all the suffering that they had caused, over so many harvests. But some part of him had to reason that that was not the right path. Instead, he turned his attention towards the middle.

He was almost past the stairs leading to either side. Almost to the beam of pure white, pulsing and streaming. Synthesis, the Catalyst had said. Synthesis was apparently the next and final step in evolution. It would end the conflicts, it would spare many. It would provide a true peace for the galaxy. That was what he wanted. That was what the galaxy _needed_.

Peace.

With his mind made up, he quickened his pace. The slow limp became a jog, which turned into a full out run. Determination kept him going now. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he wasn't going to make it out of this alive. He knew that, but had held onto hope that he would. That he'd make it back to his crew; his friends, his family.

His lover.

He had assured them all that he would be back. He wouldn't let it end here. This was just the beginning of a new era, he had said. They could celebrate when it was over. He was _Commander Shepard_, if anyone could make it out of this ordeal alive it was him.

It was bullshit. He knew it, and so did his friends.

He lept into the light, eyes shutting as the energy overcame him.

In his last moments, he remembered Anderson. Anderson had been his mentor, and a good friend. He had even almost been like a father to a parentless Shepard. He had helped him in so many ways, and pushed him to become the man that he had become. The final words of his friend had proved that he had done right by him. He'd made the admiral proud.

He thought about his crew. They were more than just soldiers, following his orders. They were his friends, his family. The time spent with them meant so much to him. He had never really had anyone like them to rely on before. He'd never had a family until they all came together. It brought him comfort knowing that he wouldn't die without a family.

The last person he thought about was Major Kaidan Alenko. He was, without a doubt, the most important person in his life. Dependable, level headed, madly perfect in every sense of the word. He had tried to reassure him so many times that he _would_ be back. He wasn't going to leave him behind. He'd finish this, just like he had finished off Sovereign and the Collector Base. He'd finish all of this, end the war for good, and come back to him. He had told Kaidan to hold onto all of his goodbyes just before he set off down the streets of London. He had told him to wait, told him that he'd be just fine. That this wasn't the end, and they didn't need to say farewell to each other, because neither of them were going anywhere.

Now, as a light burn buzzed through his dissolving form, he regretted his words. At least Kaidan had been more realistic, taking that moment before the final stand to drag him in for a kiss. His last kiss: desperate, heated, as if it was an attempt to burn the feeling into his brain forever.

That kiss was the last thing he thought about, as his life came to an end.


End file.
